


8 Ways To Say 'I Love You'

by pleenie96



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Did I Mention Fluff, Fluff, M/M, honestly its all fluff, there is nothing else but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleenie96/pseuds/pleenie96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8 Different times Harry told Louis he loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	8 Ways To Say 'I Love You'

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure fluff, like rotten teeth kind of sweet. and i would apologize but that's how harry and louis make me.  
> FLUFF SQUAD  
> (also i want to dedicate the first 'i love you' to my pal jori. because she kinda gave me the idea of one of the parts and just in general i love her a lot.)  
> also, i got this idea from "8 ways to say i love you" by R. McKinley

8 Ways To Say 'I Love You'

1  
Harry's drunk. He knows, he knows, he knows he is. He's drunk and everyone is happy and everyone is kissing and he has no one. He could grab that girl who has red lipstick and blonde hair and everything that a man wants. Or he could reach for the boy who has broad shoulders and hopes he would pick Harry up like they do in movies.  
  
Or he could call Louis.  
  
His hands fumble in his pocket, and he can't control the excitement that seeps into his bones when he sees that Louis has already texted him. He was just thinking about Louis. How funny.

__

_hope you're having fun, love. wish i was there !_

  


Harry smiles, poking at his own dimple like Louis would do if he were here. God, he wishes Louis was here.  
  
He doesn't bother using his shaking fingers to fumble with typing, so instead he presses the call button and laughs. He wants Louis to hear him laugh because Louis talks about how much he likes Harry's laugh.  
  
The phone rings and rings and rings until there's Louis speaking through the voice-mail message. “You've reached the one and only Louis Tomlinson! Sorry I couldn't answer, mate. Just leave whatever you want to say and I'll have a listen when I can. Cheers!”  
  
A tone rings in Harry's ears and he can't help but let the word vomit leave his mouth.  
  
“I wish you were here, Louis. I am laughing and I want you to hear it because it makes you laugh, too. You love my laugh, I love your laugh, we'd both be in love.” Harry sighs, leaning his head against the wall. People are still around, still dancing and still kissing and still none of them are Louis. “I love you, Lou. I do, I do. You know how I know?” He pauses, as if Louis would respond with an answer. “I know I love you because you are the first person I think about when I smile.”  
  
Someone leans on the wall next to him; Its the guy with broad shoulders. He's too big, too big. Harry doesn't want to be picked up, anymore. He wants to be the one picking someone up. He wants to put Louis in his pocket. “I want to put you in my pocket, Lou. That way you could be with me forever and whenever I needed to smile or laugh, all I would have to do is bring tiny you out of my pocket and we could both be happy.”  
  
He sighs. The man next to him grazes his knuckles down Harry's arm and it sends unwelcome shivers down his spine. Harry pushes off the wall, wondering why this voice-mail hasn't cut him off yet.  
  
The night is cold, and it almost looks like it will snow. Louis told him he should take a jacket and he didn't. Louis is always right.  
  
“I am looking at the stars, Louis.” He points at one that shines a lot. It reminds him of Louis. “I wish you were talking to me right now.” He smiles, dropping his finger from the air and resting his open palm against his chest. It feels unusually warm in the winter air. “You did that, Louis. You made me feel warm. You made me feel the sunset in my heart.”  
  
He laughs. Even drunk he knows he's being ridiculous, but Louis makes him that way. The wind blows against his bare arms and he remembers that its past midnight and Louis is asleep. For some reason, he figured Louis would call him back as soon as he hung up.  
  
“Its late” the quiet of his voice is a great contrast to how he was recently talking. He doesn't like being out this late alone. He wishes, once again, that Louis was here. “I'm going home, Lou. I'm glad I got to tell you how warm you make me feel.” He smiles, stuffing his phone in his pocket.  
  
He walks to his flat, drunk off his mind, screaming a song into the streets.  
  
“He keeps me warm! He keeps me warm!”

Its dreary and cold and Harry doesn't hate himself, but there's something tugging at his guts when he wakes up alone. He had expected to come home with someone on his arm, someone from the party that wouldn't mind that he didn't remember their name. But all he's left with is his phone clutched in his hand and the taste of last night stuck on his tongue.  
  
He walks to work without changing clothes. They're wrinkled and he's almost sure there's a stain stuck at the crotch of his pants. He doesn't care. A morning shift is not something he wants to bother with after a night out.  
  
And its sure to show that he's in last night's clothes when Niall flicks at his ear and laughs too loud. “Good night, eh? Couldn't even go home and change?” The bell on the door rings, and both boys turn to see Louis walk in.  
  
He has a jean jacket on, but another jacket hanging from his grip. It looks a lot like Harry's. “Here,” Louis shyly smiles, handing the jacket over the counter to Harry. It is his jacket. “Told you that you'd need it.”  
  
Harry smiles, sliding the warm fabric over his arms that have been cold since last night. Niall rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter to better watch the two. “Are you going to order lunch or have your boy run and get us some?”  
  
The thought appalls Harry, sending Louis back out in the cold just for a favor. “I'll call in an order at the Italian place down the street. Louis, stay here.” He points at a sofa at the end of the shop, nodding when Louis blushes and goes to sit down.  
  
Harry heads in the back of the store, grabbing his phone from the break room. Its to his confusion when his call list is open, and Louis' name is at the top.  
  
 _Outgoing call to: Louis Tomlinsun ! :) 12 minutes, 48 seconds_

  


Harry stands there, confused, before he remembers something he said last night.  
  
“You make me feel the sunset in my heart.”  
  
He doesn't step out of the back room until the food gets there. And when Louis doesn't say anything about the call last night, Harry doesn't feel like a hole should open up and swallow him. But he kind of wishes both thing would happen. 

2  
  
He's at a party, but this time, he isn't drunk. And this time, Louis is there.  
  
Louis is there, and he's next to Harry and Harry doesn't have to look at anyone else when Louis is right next to him. Their legs are pressed together, and Louis' hand keeps finding it's way to Harry's thigh. Sometimes it tangles in the ends of his hair. Other times it floats down his arm and grips at his wrist.  
  
“How about we get out of here?” Louis finally asks. Finally. His cheeks nudge up when he smiles, creating small creases by his eyes that Harry wants to trace. Harry will never be able to say no to him.  
  
They end up walking outside, rounding the park that sits directly in the middle of town. The water fountains are frozen, creating a liquid casing that threatens to break out as soon as warmth hits. Its a winter wonderland in every sense.  
  
“Glad you have a jacket this time,” Louis jokes, nudging Harry towards a bench in the grass. He's sure it will freeze both their bums, but Louis makes sure to sit close to him and share their warmth.  
  
“Doesn't matter,” Harry bites his lip, watching as stars poke out from behind night clouds. “You would've kept me warm enough.” He spares a quick side-glance towards Louis. He tells himself that the redness in his cheeks is from the cold biting at his skin.  
  
Its quiet out, with it being so late and the winter season keeping everyone inside their warm homes. They're crazy to be sitting outside right now.  
  
He's about to say as much when a smaller, colder hand slips into his own. His immediate reaction is to hold on. Hold on and never let go.  
  
Louis squeezes, and neither of the boys look at each other. Its a moment that has Harry imagining frozen stars falling to the ground, surrounding them in dimming lights.  
  
The soft pressure of Louis leaning his head against Harry's shoulder keeps him grounded. He turns his head, letting his lips linger along Louis' hair. He could stay like this forever. He wishes they would turn into marble so everyone could see how much he loves Louis.  
  
Their breathes send puffs of smoke into the night. Harry's almost sure that when he whispers, “I love you” into the air, it lightly rises with the smoke and evaporates. Maybe it was just an exhilaration of ecstasy. 

 

 

3

Harry has never been nervous around Louis. That's one thing that makes him seek the comfort of Louis. Its always been that way.  
  
As he stands at Louis' doorstep, flowers in hand and a teddy bear stuck under his arm, he feels like running and never turning back.  
  
But too soon, the door slides open and he's looking at his beautiful Louis and the nervous jitters seep right out of his pores. A smile slides onto his face when he sees Louis let out a breath, his anxiety leaving with Harry's nervousness.  
  
His eyes dart to Harry's full hands, eyebrows raising when he sees what they hold. There's a slight blush when he looks up, opening the door a little wider. “Come in. The flowers will get cold and wilt.”  
  
Harry's shined boots squeak on Louis' floor, and each noise makes him wince a little bit. The collar on his shirt feels too tight and his pants feel too dressy. But Louis turns and looks at him with the sun in his eyes.  
  
“I watched five romance movies before I came to you,” Harry truthfully tells, handing the flowers to Louis to put in a vase. “All of them had 3 things in common.”  
  
“Let me guess,” the flowers look beautiful in the vase. The walk over killed them a little, but it seems like Louis can warm those up, too. “Flowers, a teddy bear, and....” He looks at Harry, eyes squinting in concentration.  
  
“The teddy bear is stuffed with chocolate,” Harry laughs. It sends Louis into a fit of giggles and both of them can't stop looking at each other.  
  
Louis runs his hands over Harry's jacket, fixing his collar with sure fingers. “You're always wonderful, Harry.”  
  
He doesn't stop blushing on the entire walk to the restaurant.  
  
It gets even worse when they're there. He's sure to pull out Louis' chair for him, but after that, he can't stop his hands from shaking and for some reason, his throat feels scratchy.  
  
“Are you coming down with something?” Louis asks, taking a gingerly sip of his wine. He has his feet wrapped around Harry's ankle and Harry's scared that if he moves, Louis will take them away.  
  
He clears his throat, taking a sip of his own drink. “No, no. I'm just-” He stops, thanking the Gods when the waiter comes over to take their order. Harry doesn't even understand the menu, because who makes menu's French, anymore?  
  
After he's ordered something he can't even pronounce, the jitters are back again. But this time, Louis slides his hand over the clothed table and takes Harry's hand in his own.  
  
“This is nice,” Louis whispers, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of Harry's hand. Its a comforting gesture and it calms Harry down. He doesn't feel like he's going to start vibrating with nerves anymore.  
  
All of this, the dressy clothes and high-class restaurant, it isn't him. He hates dress shirts and can't speak French and all he wanted was to take Louis out on a nice date. And maybe tell him what's only been drunkenly said or whispered into the night air.  
  
During dessert, it happens.  
  
There's a smudge of chocolate resting on Louis' chin and he doesn't know it. It should be ridiculous, that Harry finds it so endearing. “Here, you got a little-” He leans over the table, using the tip of his finger to wipe away the chocolate. He doesn't even think before he's sliding his finger between his lips, licking off what was once on Louis' face.  
  
The look in Louis' eyes makes Harry's heart pound, and he doesn't whisper it this time. “I love you, Lou.” Its such a relief to say the simple confession to something he's always known.  
  
No one around them matters. The sounds from the kitchen are drowned out behind the pounding in his ears. The people are just blurs that have no comparison to the man who sits in front of him. The man who looks down in his lap, blushing at the spoken words.  
  
“Take me home, Haz.” He looks up from beneath his eyelashes, lips curling around into a shy smile. “And take off that stupid shirt.”

 

 

4

 

He holds him. He holds him and feels him and keeps him so close. Harry doesn't know how he ever lived without Louis pressed against his chest.  
  
Louis is wrapped around Harry, and the soft breaths against Harry's bare skin tell him that he's fast asleep.  
  
So its to no struggle that Harry leans into Louis, counting the gentle spaces between his breathes, and whispers it again.  
  
“I love you. I love you.”  
  
And when Louis shifts towards him, Harry closes his eyes. Maybe he was just sleep whispering.

 

 

5

 

“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody!” Harry throws his head back in laughter, watching as Louis dances across the kitchen in nothing but his boxers, a white shirt, and thick socks. “I wanna feel the heat with somebody!”  
  
There are whisks being used as microphones. The cake they decided to make is sitting on the counter, still in batter form, immediately forgotten.  
  
Harry grabs a spoon, licking the batter off of it before he puts it to his mouth, laughing. “Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody.” he grabs Louis' hand, spinning him in place. A few specks of batter fling off his spoon, hitting Louis right on the cheek. “With somebody who loves me!”  
  
Both of them are indecent, dancing in the small kitchen of Louis' flat. Whitney Houston probably hasn't been played this loud since 1987. Harry could not be happier.  
  
Louis does a little shimmy, making the soft pad of his socks interlock with the twist of his hips. It causes Harry to have an uproar of laughter, covering his mouth with his hands out of shock. Louis doesn't say anything, but directs a beaming smile his way.  
  
Harry picks off on the parts they've missed. “Somebody who loves me!”  
  
Louis points a finger at him, “Somebody to hold me in his arms!” He does a cat walk that makes Harry lean his head back again, just to laugh. Its anything but sexy, with batter on his cheeks and stains on his shirt. “I need a man who'll take a chance,” Louis raises a brow, placing a finger under Harry's chin. His hands feel electric. “On a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls,” He pecks Harry's chin, narrowly missing the puff of his bottom lip. Harry's heart beats as he Louis lets go, throwing his hands out into the air as the music blasts. “My lonely heart calls!”  
  
“I love you!” Harry shouts over the music, making Louis nearly trip over his socked feet. The music plays on, but it almost seems as if time has stopped with the way Louis is looking at him. Almost surprised. “I love you...in that, in that shirt. And when you dance.”  
  
Louis pulls at his shirt, scratching at the stain there. He glances up at Harry, a humorous look on his face. Harry's been caught. “I can't dance for shit, Harry.” Louis laughs, grabbing at Harry's hands and pulling him close. They dance hand in hand, Whitney Houston changing into Frank Sinatra.  
  
Harry doesn't know how long they dance that morning. The cake never gets cooked and he pretends he doesn't feel Louis' eyes on him for the rest of the day.

 

 

6

 

Harry's been sitting at the kitchen table long enough for morning to shift into day. The sunlight beams in through opens windows, the warmth overpowering the still-cold air that tangles into a hint of spring. It warms his fingers that stay clenched around his favorite pen.

__

_“Louis,_

_Your blue eyes make even the clearest water look unclean. I want to drown in them and come coughing back up with only your name. My lips will tremble, but I am sure you will be there to calm them with your own._

_You are everything I never knew I wanted. You were the unexpected in my life that created something entirely new. The warmth in my chest that makes summer look like an autumn day. You are all of these things, you are everything, and so much more._

_I could quote the dearest poets that capture everyone's hearts, but that would not suffice. You are greater than Shakespeare's sonnets and E.E. Cummings' metaphors. You are words unspoken to the human tongue and I wish to learn the language._

_I mean it when I say that I have never loved something so much as I love you. Nothing can compare to how my heart feels when you smile. I could put the stars in the night sky with how much light you put into my life._

_I am yours for the taking. I hope I can only make you feel half as wonderful as you make me feel._

_With all the love,  
 _Harry xx”__

His hands tremble, God do they tremble, as he seals the letter shut. He can't help that his handwriting is off-par when he writes Louis' name on the front of the envelope. This letter is encased with words that have been forming in his heart since he first met Louis. Thoughts and sentences that he only ever muttered when no one was listening.  
  
But now, they're out. His heart feels empty because he let everything spew out of him and tack onto the paper sitting on the table.  
  
He stands, walking through Louis' small flat that seems like home to him now. He walks to the bedroom, seeing the unmade bed. Maybe he could make it, put the envelope on the pillow and wait for Louis to open it tonight. But that would mean he'd have to be there when he read it, and Harry isn't sure he could take that.  
  
The next room is the living room, and he figures he could slide it into one of Louis' coat pockets. But what if he ended up giving the jacket away? Or never even wore it and he wouldn't ever read Harry's letter.  
  
He glances around the flat, not feeling comfortable with any idea that slips into his mind. Its then that he hears keys in the door, signaling that Louis is coming home.  
  
In a haste of pure hurry, he curses and throws the letter in the trash. He doesn't think about the words lost, or the meaning behind them never being revealed. But Louis welcomes him with warm hugs and deep kisses that put the letter out of his mind.  
  
Later, when Harry notices a square paper sitting in the back of Louis' pocket, he doesn't say anything. He just smiles, wondering if Louis knows he meant every word.

 

7

 

The leaves are starting to return to the trees, making everything look fuller than it has in months. And Harry feels it, too. Walking hand in hand with Louis, he feels like nothing else could fulfill him. He's satisfied with what he has.  
  
The streets are just starting to come back to life; People driving to town, walking to their favorite bistros. Spring seems to bring a welcome mat with it.  
  
“I bet I can beat you to the park,” Louis smiles, a mischievous glint to his eye that says he's up to no good. He tugs at Harry's hand, pulling him along the sidewalk. “Come on. I'm the fastest kid in this part of town.”  
  
Harry smiles, digging his feet into the sidewalk to slow Louis down. “No, Lou. There's too many people around.” He apologizes when he accidentally brushes into a woman pushing a stroller. It only further emphasizes his excuse. Louis tugs at his hand again, pushing through the crowd of people. “Lou, no. You'll run into someone or something.”  
  
Louis looks back at him, smirking before he drops their interlaced hands and frees himself. In seconds, he's pushing through the crowd at a high speed that isn't welcomed in close spaces like tiny sidewalks full of people. He earns glares, and Harry does too, when he shouts after him.  
  
Harry laughs, trying to speed up to a fast walk, when he hears it.  
  
There's a loud screech, like a car trying to come to a stop too quick. And Harry's heart falls to his feet, making him stumble with a curse. “Louis?” he shouts it, pushing past a group of people who have come to stop at the end of the sidewalk. His hands are sweaty and his mind is racing and he needs to find Louis.  
  
There are concerned looked as car doors open and people shuffle past. Harry can feel his entire world turning on it's axis as he comes to the front of the crowd, near the street.  
  
Louis is sitting there, ankle wrapped in his hands, as he winces. His hair is windswept from running and his cheeks look flushed and Harry can't help but run to him.  
  
“Are you alright? Are you okay? What happened?” he's asking too many questions because his mind can't stop. Louis is sitting on the street, hurt, and he can't keep his mind from running around in his head.  
  
Louis waves him off, his nose scrunching up as he puts his fingers around his ankle again. “I'm alright, Haz. Just, tripped and nearly fell into the street.”  
  
Harry's ears burn as he turns to the crowd and fans them away. Some people immediately obey, realizing that there isn't a scene to see. Others linger on the sidewalk, watching as Harry picks Louis up.  
  
“Put me down!” Louis screeches, but Harry doesn't listen as he walks the rest of the way to the hospital. In fact, he doesn't listen to anything Louis is saying until they're in a hospital room, Louis sitting with a cast on his ankle.  
  
“Are you upset with me?” Louis is whispering. He almost got run over by a car, and he's wondering if Harry's upset with him.  
  
Harry takes his fingers from his lips, where he was worrying them into their chapped state. All he could think about was, what if Louis hadn't stopped? What if the car hadn't stopped? Why wasn't he there to catch Louis when he fell?  
  
He stands, walking over to the patient's table where Louis is impishly sitting. He had asked for a green cast, “to match my boyfriend's eyes.”  
  
With shaking hands, Harry wraps his palms around Louis' cheeks. Right now, he is holding his entire world in his hands. He almost lost his entire world.  
  
He tries to keep an even tone when he looks into Louis' eyes. “I am terrified at the thought of living without you.” He brushes a strand of hair away from Louis' eye, being as gentle as he possibly can with trembling hands. “Do you realize that, Louis? Do you realize that you are my life?”  
  
Louis nods his head as much as he can with Harry's hands still encompassing it. His eyes look so, so blue this close up. And all Harry wants to do is cradle him up and take him home, where he's safe.  
  
The doctor comes in, making Harry step away from Louis. Its just when they're finishing up that the man in a white coat turns around with a timid smile. “Want to be the first to sign his cast?”  
  
That's how Harry finds himself on his knees, tongue poking out, as he ever so gently writes the first words on Louis' cast.  
  
 _I Love You_

 

8

 

Weeks later, as they latch onto one another in the dimness of their bedroom, the only words written on Louis' cast are the three Harry put there.  
  
Its a steady rhythm, their hearts beating so close. He can't help but feel warm when Louis is around. Like nothing could ever make him cold if Louis is there to pull him through the seasons.  
  
The stars are shining through the open windows, a soft breeze blowing throughout the flat. It gently lays over their two bodies, making them pull one another closer. Neither are asleep, and neither are feigning being tired. Its the comfort of lying so close that has Louis' chin resting on Harry's chest, watching as Harry takes Louis in like its the first time all over again.  
  
A small smile creeps on Louis' face, making his tender cheeks blush into a deep hue. Harry leans his head, asking a silent question.  
  
He feels fingers tracing his skin, like a map that needs to be learned to go anywhere in the World. This vein leads to Harry's heart, but Louis has already traveled that path.  
  
“I want to say this in my own words,” Louis starts, letting his fingers keep traveling as his words float into Harry's ears. “I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to realize that I love you just as much as you love me. Because sometimes my words tumble inside my head and I don't know how to push them out.” He glances up at Harry, looking too shy to be speaking right now. Harry wants nothing more than to lift him up and tell him that he is the most beautiful person and to never be afraid. “Someone once told me that I made them feel the sunset in their heart.” He smiles, and Harry remembers. “I just wanted to tell you that you make me feel the sunrise. Because every day I feel brand new when I'm with you. And every day I know that you're what I'm living for. You're my sunrise, Harry. You make me warm, too.”  
  
He presses a kiss to Harry's chest, letting his cheek rest there. Harry knows his heart is beating fast, but at least Louis knows its beating for him.  
  
“I love you, Harry.” Louis finally says, latching his hand onto Harry's and never letting go.  
  
“I love you, too, Louis.”


End file.
